Boo
by newxyorkxloser
Summary: Everybody always thought that you were going to fall for a Weasley, and they were right. They just picked the wrong one. HermionexGinny oneshot :D


You're sitting there and you're staring and you really can't help it. It's rude and it's stupid and it's so obvious but how could you not stare at her? She's so fucking goddamn perfect and you wish you could be like her and even though you're top in your year and all the teachers love you and you've got perfect grades, you wish you could be like her. She's beautiful and she's perfect without even trying and she's sweet and she's funny and you're just there with your nose in a book.

Everybody always thought that you were going to fall for a Weasley, and they were right. They just picked the wrong one.

You've been out since you were twelve years old but that hasn't kept guys from asking you out and it hasn't stopped Ron from drooling over you and trying to convince you that you can't possibly be gay. Of course, he hadn't shown anything close to interest in you until after you'd grown boobs and learned how to wear make up anyway. Stupid boy.

No, it's not that you hate guys, because honestly, you really don't. They make great friends and the gay ones go shopping with you and carry your bags and they're total girl magnets, because honestly, you don't really scream dyke, much to your dismay.

Wait. Shit. She saw you. She's turning and she's smiling at you and then she's turning back to her homework.

Shit. Shit. You're blushing and Ron's asking you why you're turning all red and, "Hermione, did you sit on a dildo or something?" and you're trying to ignore him and fuck, she caught you staring.

It's not like you have a crush on Ginny or any--oh fuck, yes, of course you do. You are obsessed with that girl and it's driving you absolutely insane and if you don't do something about it soon you're going to explode or blow something up or punch Ron in the face. Actually, honestly, you were planned on doing the last one anyway, but nobody else needs to know that.

Ginny Weasley's strange. Your gaydar says that she should at least be bi, and your gaydar has never been wrong, but you've never even caught her staring at a girl, even for a second, and you're pretty sure she's old enough by now to be aware of her sexuality, and really, even if she wasn't, you know that you used to stare at girls before you knew.

"What, Ronald?" You're groaning, leaning your head on the table and sighing, head in your arms, your mountain of homework beside you. "What could you possibly want?"

You've always been a bookworm, and you've always loved learning new things and yes, you have always actually really really liked how much homework you've gotten, but for god's sake, why must it interrupt girl watching time? And even worse, Ron's sitting next to you, which makes it even harder.

"Jeez, Hermione, I was just asking if you wanted to go outside and have a snowball fight or something." He's mumbling, pulling himself out of his chair and tugging nervously on his hat. Somehow, you're sure that if you say yes, he'll turn it into a date and then all of a sudden you'll have a boyfriend and you'll feel too bad to tell him that you don't want to date him or any boy and then he'll get all mopey like he did the last time you turned him down, only a bazillion times worse.

"Uhm.." You're saying, making pathetic, overwhelmed gestures at the 7 textbooks and foot long list of essays and papers that need to be turned in. You're trying to act like you're under some crazy amount of pressure or something so he'll be so terrified by the magnitude of word you have due that he'll run away screaming and him and Harry can go have buttsex somewhere to calm his nerves.

Oh, come on, we all know that it happens, and if it hasn't, it's going to.

Ron's over with the other group of people in the common room and you're by yourself at your table full of books and Ginny's by herself on the couch, book sitting over her face and the fire blazing away in the fireplace, and you can't help but smile. She's fast asleep, and it's probably one of the cutest things you've ever seen.

You're glancing over at Ron and Harry and everybody else and they're walking out the portrait hole and you're so glad that they're all gone because you hate how the common room feels when it's full in the winter. Or ever, now that you think about it, but nobody ever stays inside once it's summer time.

Fucking potions. Stupid fucking potions. Stupid ugly slimy Snape. You've tried your best to take a shower as soon as you possibly can after his class, but _uhg._

Wait. Shit.

How did you go from thinking about how disgusting Snape is to being horny? Shit. Shitshitshit. And Ginny's right over there and jesus christ she had to pick today to show off her cleavage.

Shit.

You're wondering hopelessly why it is that you have to be such a ridiculous hormonal wreck all the fucking time and why it happens at the worst possible times and then when you're actually going to get laid you're on your period or you're not interested or you're not in the mood or fuck.

Somewhere, there must be a funny old man with a curly mustache laughing at you.

--

"Hermione?" Her voice catches you off guard and for a moment you're distracted from the mountain you've spent the last fifteen minutes making out of your eggs. It's soft and sweet but somehow still made you jump. You're feeling her breath on your neck and her skin's brushing against yours and you're realizing for the first time how much effort it takes just to breathe.

"Ginny." Your voice cracked. How could it crack on a word as simple as 'Ginny'? You sound like you're choking and you're chewing your lip nervously, fork sitting in Mount St. Scrambled Egg.

"Did you hear a word I just said?" She's asking, sighing and leaning her head on her palm and staring up at you.

"Nope! And.. uhm.. any particular reasoning behind your sudden liking of the inside of my nostrils?" You're asking, looking down at her. She just grins and pokes your nose and goes back to eating her bacon, which you cannot comprehend. At all. How can such a hottie like a food as disgusting as bacon?

No, you don't like bacon. Or pork of any sort, actually. It's gross and oily and it tastes funny and it's fatty and it makes you break out. There's nothing good about it at all--unless you put it in a cheeseburger or something. Then it's tolerable.

You're sitting there and all of a sudden your appetite's gone and you really wish that you had something resembling control of the people you fell for because right now it's taking even your ability to eat away, and last you checked, cheesy romance novels only ever said anything about having your breath taken away, and for a moment you wondered vaguely if you might be ill.

"I was asking if you would help me study for that potions test Snape's giving next week." She's saying after she swallows and chugs a whole glass of water.

"Oh.. uhm.. I.. sure.. I've gotta go." You're stammering, pulling yourself up from the table and walking out of the great hall before you have to look at her again and you're wishing that just for once something would make sense to you outside of a textbook.

--

"Hey, Ginny?" You're laying sprawled across the field outside overlooking the lake and she's laying there with her head resting on your chest and she's breathing softly, blowing pieces of her bright red hair onto your bare skin every time she breathes out, and you're wondering if she can hear your heart beating out of your chest, because she actually does have her ear right over your heart, now that you thinking about it.

But she's asleep, you realize. She's either asleep or she's gone and died on you without you realizing or she's pretending to be asleep and she's really just a lazy, lazy little girl, or maybe she's going to jump up and yell "Boo!" at you.

Yes, you do have an overactive imagination, and yes, that does include thinking about all the things Ginny could be doing if her head were in the same place but she was awake and you weren't wearing your bra.

But that's beside the point.

Not that you can remember what the point was in the first place, but still. There was a point and Ginny sucking your tits wasn't part of this mystical point.

"Ginny?" You're asking again, even though you really actually kind of like it when she's asleep like this, because her nose is kind of crushed up against her cheek and it makes her look a bit like a puppy with long red hair and it's absolutely adorable.

Jesus christ, are you in a movie or something? A butterfly just landed in her hair and you felt her finger twitch just the tiniest little bit against your leg, and you're wondering what she's dreaming about, because you're pretty sure that she is, indeed asleep (why would she want to pretend to be asleep, anyway?)

You must be in a movie and you must not remember signing the contract and the cameras are so small and advanced that they don't need people to work them.

Completely ignoring the whole. "Electronics don't work on school grounds" thing, of course.

She's beautiful. It's as simple as that. She's absolutely gorgeous and you wish that you could just sit up in a bed with her and hug her and tuck a daisy behind her ear and smile at her and go on for hours about everything that makes her so perfect. Her small, soft hands and her hair and the way her voice gets a pitch higher whenever she's flustered and how absolutely adorable she looks whenever she gets sunburnt. The way that she's still so incredibly shy, even though she won't ever admit it and she tries to fake it by flirting with all the guys she knows, but you can tell that she'd still be more comfortable back in her room laying in bed.

It's even cuter because she's a couple of inches shorter than you are and whenever she's sad she fits into you perfectly and you can just stand there and hug her and tell her it's going to be okay and what's-his-face wasn't worth it anyway, while she sits with her perfect head resting on your shoulder.

You're wishing that you could always hold her up like that.

Shit. You just realized how creepy you're acting and now you're chewing your lip nervously, wondering what you would do if you were straight and you didn't have a huge crush on the girl who's made your left tit her head's new home.

Just relax. Breathe. People tend to need to breathe, you're reminding yourself. Just lean back and put your arms behind your head and look at the clouds or something. Only, you're remembering that you've got one arm around Ginny and it'd just be awkward to have the other one behind your head, so instead you're resting your head gently on top of hers and closing your eyes and hoping that she doesn't think that you're creepy, even though you leaning your head on hers normally wouldn't count as creepy to anybody.

"Boo."

You can practically feel her smiling underneath you and you can't help but smile and make yourself more comfortable against her, and all she did was roll over and wrap her arm lazily around your waist.

You're vaguely trying to remember if you paid somebody to spike her drink with love potion or not, because she can't possibly be doing this on her own.

Not that it really matters to you right now.

--

She's kissing you. She cornered you in the hallway half an hour after dinner and the hallways're all empty right now except for the two of you and she'd been trying to blurt something out all night, you could tell just by the way she crushed her pile of mashed potatoes to death with her fork, grinning gleefully as "potato guts" squished between the teeth of her metal fork.

The first one was light and simple and she barely even touched your lips and she tried to make it seem like it was an accident and she didn't even say anything but you don't just accidently lean up three inches and kiss somebody unless you're wearing heels and you're not used to it. You checked. She's not.

The second one, you started and you pulled her chin back up while she was staring at the ground blushing and mumbling her hopeless apologies and you just shut her up and kissed her and you hoped to fucking god that she wasn't wearing invisible shoes or something.

Maybe you could make it off as you wanting her gum.

Does she have gum?

But she's kissing you back and she's blushing and she's pulling away from you again and you want to just look at her and hold her by the shoulders and ask her what she's so afraid of. What it is that she's always scared isn't good enough and what it is that makes her think that she's not good enough for somebody, especially somebody like you because you know that nobody in the whole world is good enough for her, and she just gets to pick whoever she wants because they still won't be good enough.

You just want to look at her and scream and ask why she's always pulling away and why it seems like she's always running away from things because she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen and that she shouldn't be scared of anybody or anything and even if she doesn't think that she's good enough on her own, you'd never in a million years let anybody lay a hand on her and you'll beat the snot out of anybody who even looks at her funny.

You want to, but all you can manage to actually spit up is, "Well, hello to you too."

She's looking at you nervously and you're grinning at her hopefully and you're kissing her lips again quickly and it's one of those things that really just doesn't need words, you're deciding, as Peeves storms down the hallway above you and throws vases around like it's going to do any sort of lasting damage.

--

Well, it didn't need words at that exact moment, anyway.

"So. Hermione."

"Ginny." You're in the common room and it's one thirty in the morning and the fire's burned itself into nothingness, but you and her are still there, sitting with your feet propped up on the table and your heads leaning back onto the couch.

You're horny again, you're realizing as you glance over at her and hope that she can't notice you staring because you really, really can't help it and you still do think that she's perfect and you still want to tell her everything about how every inch of her body is absolutely perfect, it just has to be inspected by your tongue before it can be deemed perfect.

Which is a perfectly resonable request, right?

"You're a good kisser." She's being simple and blunt and she's trying to act like anything that there could've been between the two of you didn't really make that much of a difference to her and you could be friends or fuck buddies or girlfriends and no matter which one she got, she'd be cool with it.

You wonder if you could ever pull off acting like that. You doubt it, because you're already cracking your knuckles anxiously.

It's quiet again, and you're wondering if maybe you were supposed to say something, and just as soon as you finally realize that you probably were, she's talking again and she's saying that she has no idea where that came from, earlier and she's sorry and you're thinking about how she really needs to make up her mind and how hot she was when she had an ounce of confidence.

"Did it mean anything?" You're trying your hand at this whole blunt and not caring thing, but then as soon as the words have left your mouth, you're panicking and you're wondering if you're going to scare her off and then you're never going to find out anything and you're going to be stuck staring at her cleavage until her cleave is dragging along the floor and you're six feet under.

Well, cleavage probably won't be so high on your list of things to be looking at by the time you're that age, but whatever.

"I tripped."

You're turning and you're staring at her and you're not blinking and you're not going to until she stops acting like you're absolutely retarded, because you don't work your ass off and you're not top of your grade for nothing, after all.

"Well.. I u..uhm.. it was sort of a planned trip.. and.. I mean.. I probably would've done it anyway and.." She's squirming and she's so cute when she gets caught in a lie like that and even though it sounds awful, she's adorable when she's scared and especially when she's worrying.

You stare at her for a couple more seconds, and she audibly gulps and it's adorable even though you can't tell if it was only like that because it's so quiet or because she actually gulped that loudly. And then you're smiling, though, and smiling's good and smiling's what she's looking for and she's smiling back at you and you're kissing her cheek and then you're asleep in her lap and she's got her head leaning tiredly on her shoulder and she's looking down at you.

And she's smiling.

--

I'm so tired I don't even understand what I'm writing.

All I know is that I just wrote 3/4 of this since I don't know when but it's almost five am and my fingers hurt.

I'm not making any sense at all, am I?


End file.
